


Moments in Harmony: A Drabble Collection

by IndigoSynopsis



Series: Beedleverse: Love Carries us Through [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoSynopsis/pseuds/IndigoSynopsis
Summary: From before they knew they loved each other to when they're old and grey, this drabble collection shows multiple glimpses of Harry and Hermione's evolution as a couple. Chapters will vary in length, rating, and subject matter, though will always have a focus on some aspect of Harmony's life!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Beedleverse: Love Carries us Through [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984214
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Broomsticks

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a place to put all my little drabbles and build my lil Harmonyverse...so here they are! Each chapter will have a little warning or blurb if need be. 
> 
> I would very specifically like to dedicate this drabble collection to PetrificusSomewhatus, who is my beta and never lets my confidence in my writing drop. Thank you for being my cheerleader and a great friend <3

Harry watched. Rowan was sitting cross legged with his hands pressed against the pages of a book. His sister, Chrys, was hovering a half-meter above the ground. Her hands were gripping a broomstick so hard her knuckles were white and her ponytail - a mess of bushy black hair - fluttered in the breeze. They both wore replica Gryffindor Quidditch robes, but Chrys's nearly slipped off her shoulder as she wavered in mid-air. 

"Read the instructions!" she said.

"Hold on, there's this amazing picture of Gwenog Jones-"

"Hurry up!

"Fine, fine." 

Harry thought about strolling out to help (and nearly had his foot off the back porch), but a hand on his arm stopped him, and soon he found a piping cup of tea thrust into his grip. 

"You gave them the book," she said, smiling as she took a sip from her own cup, "You should let them use it." 

Harry gulped. Yes, he had bought the twins _How To Fly: A Beginner's Guide_ , for their ninth birthday, but he did not expect them to, er, liberate one of his broomsticks to practice the very next day. With another nervous look at his children, the slightly greying boy-who-lived set his eyes on his wife. 

"You're not going to scold them for stealing?" Harry asked, unable to hide his smirk. It was Hermione that forbade them from using anything from Harry's broom collection - especially the Nimbus Model S. It was almost dangerously fast and had been temporarily banned from use in the Quidditch League. Thankfully, the twins had some sense and took one of the older, slower models. 

"You can do it now if you'd like," Hermione said. 

"Wait, me?"

"Yes, you. This is entirely your fault. They inherited their love of Quidditch from _you_."

"That is true," Harry said. He wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her close, "But it's your fault they love to read."

Hermione smiled at this undeniable fact, then turned back toward their children. Harry followed her gaze just in time to see Rowan push his glasses up and recite something from the book. This caused Chrys to loosen her hold on the broom handle, which in turn stopped wobbling. A few minutes later, she was flying in careful circles around the yard, with Rowan getting up to follow her with the book. He kept shouting instructions at her (some of which she completely ignored) until finally she touched back down.

As soon as she did, Chrys and Rowan swapped. The brown-haired boy hopped on the broomstick and rose into the air, giving a loud ‘woo!' as he flew in circles around his sister. 

"I can do it better!" he sang. 

"That's only because you looked at the book first!" 

Harry snorted into his cup, shaking his head as Hermione linked arms with him. "See?" she said, "they're perfectly fine."

"Only because they're as smart as you," Harry replied. They retreated to a set of chairs farther back on the porch, still in view of the twins and wands out in case of an emergency. Harry reached out and gripped Hermione's hand. They could tell the twins off later.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Trouble

“Rowan and Chrys, please stay back for a moment,” said Professor Potter. 

Two second years, one with a head of tousled brown curls and the other a veritable mane of equally-curly hair, paused in their tracks. Their fellow second-years pushed past them to escape the classroom. Two students, one with fiery red hair and one with platinum blonde, tried to linger behind. But one look from the Professor that read “I’ll deal with you later” had them scurrying out the door. 

A few moments later, Professor Potter sat on one of the desks with his arms crossed. The young witch and wizard approached him slowly. 

“Sit,” he ordered. They sat. Intense green eyes met equally green, but far more sheepish gazes, and the room was silent for a moment before Potter spoke. 

“The Headmistress has informed me that you two caused some trouble at breakfast this morning,” he said. “I was with your mother. Care to explain?”

“Er...Chrysanthemum Potter looked at her nails, “No? Ow!” She doubled over as Rowan elbowed her in the stomach.

“Our intention was not to cause trouble, Dad,” he said. “We simply thought that breakfast could use a little levity.” 

“Levity?” Harry rubbed his eyes, getting small fingerprints on the lenses. Since when did twelve year olds use the word ‘levity’? Then again, Rowan was essentially a walking dictionary and even more technical than his mother. 

“So you just thought it would be a good idea to mail order confetti bombs to...how many students? And the teachers?” 

“We used our pocket money!” Chrys said quickly, “we didn’t take any of yours.” 

Harry had to pause a moment for that one. There was no way his children’s pocket money would’ve covered postage and product purchase. His mind wandered to the students who no-doubt were waiting outside his classroom, and to the box of rejected prototype confetti he’d seen last time he visited _Wheezes’_ Hogsmeade location. Perhaps that’s why everyone had such a hard time getting the stuff off. 

In fact, Harry was fairly sure he still had a piece on the back of his head. 

“Alright,” he sighed. The tired man kicked the desk backward, kneeling down in front of his two children, “Here’s the deal. This is the third time in a month Headmistress McGonagall has spoken to me about you two. I need you to tone it down for at least three-to-six weeks.” 

Harry put up a finger to halt the chorus of “But Daaaaaaad” he knew was on the tip of the twins’ tongues. 

“You misunderstand me,” he said, “I said tone it down. Chrys, stop using Skiving Snackboxes to get out of Divination, and Rowan…” He turned to his son, placing a hand on the young boy’s head. 

“The Headmistress seems to think your sister is dragging you along. But you and I both know who’s really pulling the strings. I am _not_ going to cover for you if you two get caught. Do you understand?” 

“But Dad,” Chrys protested, “I know you and Mum got into all kinds of trouble at Hogwarts!” 

“And you got away with it, too,” Rowan finished. This drew another sigh from Harry, and he ran a hand through his slightly greying hair. Yep, he still had a piece of confetti stuck behind his right ear. 

“Listen, your mum and I broke rules because we had to. Well, alright, she did. The rest of the time she was running after Uncle Ron and me, trying to keep us in check. You know your mother is a powerhouse and _nothing_ , I mean nothing, gets past her.”

“Like when she found out we’d fed our vegetables to Ceridwen,” Rowan said, “Because kneazles don’t eat vegetables.” 

“And why she was asked to run for Minister, right?” Chrys added, bouncing a little in her seat. Harry’s brows rose a little bit. How did she know that? Perhaps she’d overheard them talking about it after she was supposed to be in bed. 

“Precisely. The Headmistress informed me that if the three of us,” he motioned in a triangle, pointing to each of them in turn, “can’t get it under control, she 'will be writing to Miss Hermione Granger-Potter herself', exposing everything that you’ve done this term.” 

This seemed to have the desired effect on his twins. Their eyes grew wide, and their bodies stiffened ever so slightly before they glanced at each other.

“Alright, we’ll stop,” Rowan said. “Hey...Dad? Can we have more pocket money?” 

“You’re joking.” 

Rowan shrugged. “Worth an ask. We used it all on the confetti.” 

Harry tapped him lightly on the head with a book, and indicated with a nod that it was time for them to go. As they scurried off to Godric-knows-where, Harry couldn’t help but smile. They had clearly inherited all of their late grandfather’s mischievousness, but had the added bonus of his wife’s stubborn streak and pure intelligence. He knew they’d become great Wizards, but for now? 

A small headache was forming in Professor Potter’s temples. He needed a rest. 

***

Harry stepped out of the fireplace to find Hermione reading on the couch. As soon as she saw him, she all but flew into his arms. He caught her, dropping his bag on the ground and giving her a slightly soot-covered hug. 

“How was your day?” she asked, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, fine,” he said. He turned his head so their lips met, standing there for a moment as the green fire died out behind them. When they finally broke apart, Harry began to amble toward the kitchen with half a mind to grab the mousse he’d left there yesterday. 

“Harry, what’s that in your hair?” Hermione asked. The middle-aged wizard froze, reaching around behind his ear.

“Just a prank some students pulled. That’s all. Taken care of!” 

“Does it have anything to do with the box of confetti missing from the Weasley store in Hogsmeade?” 

Harry slowly turned around.

“Er.” 

“Luna told me,” she said. Harry watched as his wife crossed her arms, a single brow arching as she gave him a pointed look. She then plopped back down on the couch, patting the cushion next to her and giving a tight-lipped smile. 

There was no getting out of this one.

  
  
  



	3. Stretch Marks

As her dress fell to the floor, Harry covered his mouth to conceal a gasp. 

“Harry?”

“Just…let me look at you, please.” 

Despite the strain in his trousers growing nearly unbearable, he reigned himself in. Now was the time to slow down. They had waited much too long for this and damn if he wasn’t going to imprint it permanently on his brain. As he began to take her in, Harry found that he couldn't decide what he liked best. Was it the loose curls of her hair or the dark brown eyes like dipped chocolate? Could it be her just-visible collarbone, or the way the dark velvet bra cupped her breasts? Upon closer inspection, Harry realized the garment was not in fact black but bottle green.

His eyes lowered, wanting to follow the curve of her hips, but found he was barred as Hermione’s arms crossed over her stomach. She was looking away from him, a small blush rising in her cheeks (Yet another thing Harry found beautiful about her). 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. He reached up to brush his fingers over her cheek. 

“Oh yes. Well, mostly.” she said, looking away.

“If you have a scar, or something—”

“Oh no no! It’s not a scar. It’s, well…”Hermione’s blush deepened, “it’s stretch marks.” 

“Stretch what?” 

“Stretch marks...they happen when someone grows faster than their skin can catch up or when they gain weight.” 

Harry looked at her, then carefully leaned forward to remove the hand covering her right hip. At first he didn’t see anything, but as he peered closer Harry saw thin, pale lines weaving their way across her skin. They crossed beneath the line of her underwear and continued a few inches down her hips. 

“You’re beautiful,” Harry said. 

She gasped in what Harry thought was some mixture of surprise and relief, then lowered her hands and looked down as Harry knelt before her.

He was confused as to how she could possibly think he’d be turned off by this. On the contrary, Hermione’s body was a treasure chest full of beautiful secrets and he couldn’t help himself as he reached out to trace every line he could find. They perfectly framed her hips, brush strokes on a canvas. Then there was her stomach; soft and punctuated with a single dark freckle which Harry kissed twice. But those feather light kisses began to linger as a heat built up within him. Hermione’s body had all the perfect imperfections of an art piece. Every line...every shadow...every scar...told the story of this brilliant woman. He loved it all.

“I’d very much enjoy taking these off,” he whispered against her thigh. His fingers hooked around the rim of Hermione’s underwear, and he felt her shiver. 

“Yes.”


End file.
